Mr. Martin's Drawing Room
I sit in the back of my classes,
only raise my hand in English,
listening to the hum of poetry
on the teacher's tongue, hanging
after class on the decoupaged stool
at the front of the room, watching
the posters on the room follow
me with their eyes. I stay
because he understands.
I draw him stick figures that hang
themselves on the white board for him to erase.
There's always the teacher that gives the best
advice. Sometimes the best advice is silence.
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Fault
PoetryLiz is a regular teenager with a best friend who can get her into the best parties which is great until Liz gets roofied and raped one night at a party and when she starts to speak up, things get messy. When no one, including her best friend, believ...
